"Now you are beginning again, Alfred," said Edouard, who was not in the least amused by this scene.
"No, no, let me alone! I must excuse myself, I must try to obtain forgiveness."
"Rise, monsieur," said Isaure in a sad, soft tone; "I bear you no ill will, it was not you who made me weep; but I was thinking of my situation, I was thinking that I have no parents, that I have lost my adopted mother. When she was with me, no one tried to kiss me."
"There! you see that it was I who caused you to make these melancholy reflections!" said Alfred, rising. "Well, I realize that I was wrong, but I will not distress you again. Look you—in order to be more certain of behaving myself, which is not always easy for me, I will not come again alone to see you. Edouard shall always be with me. That I trust is a praiseworthy resolution."
"Oh, yes! that is very satisfactory," said Edouard.
"Very satisfactory—yes! But it is coupled with one little condition, and that is, my dear friend, that you will not come without me to see this charming child."
Edouard was no longer so well pleased at Alfred’s project; but Isaure looked at him as if she feared that he would refuse, and he answered with a sigh:
"Well, yes, I agree; we will come together."
"Good!" said Alfred; "that is a resolution worthy of our chivalrous ancestors. But I am inclined to think that it’s time for us to say adieu to the lady of our thoughts for to-day.—Come, Edouard, let us return to the château.—Au revoir, my sweet child; we shall see you again to-morrow, but I trust that those lovely eyes will shed no more tears."
Isaure bestowed a gentle smile on the two young men as they left her abode and returned to their horses.